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Recovery Ranch in Nunnelly, TN

Nunnelly, Tennessee | See other Tennessee rehab reviews

6107 Pinewood Road
Nunnelly, Tennessee 37137


Recovery Ranch provides a different rehab experience - located on a working horse and cattle ranch participants in their program experience first-hand the advantages of being completed removed from a normal daily routine.

The Ranch specializes in treatment for drug and alcohol addictions, eating disorders and trauma treatment.

Interviews from Susan, Michelle, Whoops, Hawk7458, PatientMom, Happy, Dino, Bar
Why did you choose this facility?
Susan: Endorsement by Dr. Phil on their website, the facility had horses. A very smooth intake recruiter convinced me that I would be well taken care of and I trusted her.
Michelle: I was looking for a place that was able to address trauma issues
Whoops: TRAUMA,DEPRESSION.
Hawk7458: Needed trauma and depression help.
PatientMom: Recommended by local therapist because it was close to home
Happy: Searching for a recovery solution on the web I came across the ranch. The website described a non-traditional approach to recovery in a peaceful/serene setting.
Dino: Referred by a women's recovery with no dual diagnosis.
Barry: Sexual addiction was their specialty

Tell us about the experience - was it positive or negative?
Susan: * NEGATIVE-NEGATIVE-NEGATIVE-NEGATIVE-NEGATIVE *

Before I could be admitted, I had to have a phone intake interview with Melissa, one of the centers' recruiters. We took a ten-minute break after an hour on the phone. Then we continued for another hour. She said the interview was the longest she'd ever taken.

They generally lasted thirty minutes. But she reassured me that the Ranch would never admit a patient unless they could fix him.

They didn't just charge 16- 18 grand a month without assurance from their team of specialists.

I took a flight to The Recovery Ranch, on September 2, 2008. I stayed two months and left there more traumatized than when I went in.

I've had two Nashville attorneys respond positively to filing a lawsuit. But I was too shattered and didn't get the paper work in on time, due to the statute of limitations.

Upon my arrival, I was subjected to an intake interview with the facility's psychiatrist, Dr. Merritt. What a piece of shit of a human being. She had to take a break during the interview, so she could steady herself.

I couldn't believe it. I'd been to lots of treatment programs and had seen many professionals. Her reaction worried me. I should've known right then, I was in the wrong place.

She decided to put me a bunch of drugs for schizophrenics, which practically put me into a coma. I had come there to be treated for Complex- PTSD from sexual abuse, ADHD, Anxiety and Panic Attack disorder (I don't t know the acronym for that), Alcoholism and Drug addiction, Generational Clinical Suicidal Depression (three in three generations, on my mother's side) and other acronyms that I can't remember now. But I knew FOR SURE, none them stood for schizophrenia. That was the rumor though, so I was called Sybil quite often and not just behind my back.

Bobby Chapman was my assigned as my primary counselor. That meant I would be attending sessions with him, one on one and the group therapy sessions he led several times a week. It was a small group, with the worst patients, because Bobby was "the Best."

The first ten days I was there, Bobby was in Tucson, Arizona for advanced trauma training. I figured it was worth the trade. He was not only the best, but he was getting even better! Boy, did I feel lucky.

But it led to problems. During that first week and a half, I got into a lot of trouble. I broke almost every rule they had, which wasn't hard to do, since I didn't know what the rules were until I broke one.

I was pretty sure sneaking my cell phone in with me was a big no-no, but too bad about that. I'd been trapped in facilities before with no way to get out, and I wasn't going through that again. I also kept my wallet with my driver's license and a hundred dollars in it, just in case I had to skedaddle and take a bus home.

My room was upstairs, the coolest room in the house, according to Doreen, one of my new roommates. The other was Lori, a tall, thin, depressed individual. Pretty much the opposite of Doreen, who reminded me of a female Cartman from South Park. Her eyes bugged out of her fat face.

She was rich, rich, rich. She came from 'old' money, a true blue- blood. I wondered why she wasn't in the ED House, but she was supposedly addicted to morphine suppositories, gross.

Doreen and Michelle were the Prima Donnas of the house. Whatever they said, everyone agreed. What they liked, everyone liked. And what they hated... well...there was no turning back.

Our bedroom was the only one that had a fire escape door which opened to a set of black steel grated emergency stairs. Doreen liked to smoke out on the landing. She showed me how to keep the door open so it wouldn't lock when it shut. "Just put your house slipper in right here," she said, pointing to bottom of the door.

Umm, I didn't have 'house slippers.' I had socks. But I didn't tell her that. I got the point, "Don't lock yourself out, Susan or else you'll be going down the stairs and trying to sneak back into the house."

Even though I was suspicious of her, and everyone else, I thought that since she had shared this taboo information with me, I could maybe trust her...a little.

At night, I went into our bathroom and called Julie. It made me feel safe. It was the only time I felt safe. On the third night, I walked out of the bathroom as I was turning my phone off.

"Well, what do we have here?" It was Doreen.

I felt like peeing my pants, but I'd already done that while I talked to Julie.

"It's cool, I'm not going to tell anyone, let me see it." I handed her my phone. I felt like I was handing her my life.

"How'd you get this in here? She held it between her thumb and forefinger, like it was a turd. It was kind of used, dirty and beat up.

"Uuh well, there's no telling what you can stick up your ass if you really want to." I watched my phone drop onto the soft plush carpet.

"Heh, heh, just kidding! I put it in my pocket. They didn't frisk me when I came in." She wasn't amused.

That was the true beginning of my nightmare at the Recovery Ranch.

When Bobby came back, I first met him in group therapy. He frowned as he read my chart. As he studied my chart, I studied him. He was a big guy, well over six feet tall. He didn't like shoes; obviously, he kicked his loafers off before he sat down Indian-style.

He had thick, brown hair, cut in the same style he'd probably had since the seventies. It was parted down the middle and dropped just past his ears and flipped outwards, like the Flying Nun. I was betting he was a hippie once. He couldn’t have been much older than me, maybe a couple of years or so.

He seemed like a nice guy, but I was a little uncomfortable with his enthusiasm. I sat in a circle with three other women and a psychology student who was completing his internship. His name was John.

Amy, from Montana, was trying to stay out of prison for her fifth DUI, and Cindy, from New Jersey, was beaming with chicklet teeth. She was leaving in two days, even though the staff thought she would benefit from spending another fifteen grand for a second month at the Ranch. Her glee was ominous.

And then there was Michelle, a true southern belle from "The best state in the nation, Tennessee."

Michelle was a debutante and her dad was a mobster. She required special attention from Bobby all the time. After every group, she pulled him aside and talked seriously to him for at least five minutes. She was a bitch. She hated me since I first arrived. She was pissed that I was more fucked up than her.

As we sat in the circle, I started shaking. I couldn't stop. John noticed this and gave me a look of concern, which I appreciated.

Bobby finally looked up from my chart. "So, Susan, nice to meet you." He looked toward his left and said "This is John, he's a grad student, but he's really a good listener." Hmm...what did that mean? I liked John more than anyone and I had just met him. His face conveyed an understanding that I hadn't felt since I arrived almost two weeks ago.

"And I'm sure you've already been introduced to Amy, Cindy and Michelle. It appears you are settling in, somewhat."

He had to know that I wasn't doing settling in very well. After Doreen ratted on me and told Joan, the Resident Assistant/ House Mother, where I hid my phone, things had gotten ugly. The next day, out at the gazebo, where smoking was allowed, I went off on her. I guess I gave her "the look," a hereditary condition that scared the hell out of people.

She removed her blankets from her bed and slept downstairs on the couch for the next week, before she was discharged. Voices whispered constantly. Everywhere I went, people got up and disappeared.

"Shit, I'm five foot tall, I weigh a hundred pounds, how dangerous could I be?"

"Tell me, do you hear voices?" It was Bobby.

"Huh? What did you say?" I was swimming in confusion.

"I was reading here in your chart that you mumble to yourself. And the medications you're on makes me wonder...do you hear voices?"

I thought it was a stupid first question, but he was serious and became excited by my response. "Well...yeah, sure." The look on my face said "What, are you crazy?"

But it didn't dampen his eagerness.

"Reaalllly? What voices do you hear?" He waited with the wide eyes of a teenager who had just seen a ghost...and liked it.

I replied, "Well, right now, YOURS."

"Duh, what a dumbshit," I said to myself. Then I realized that was not what he meant.

"Oh no, no, no, no! I mean, do you hear voices in your head?"

By this time I was on guard, but I answered honestly. "Well...yeah...yeah, I do."

"Really?" He was giddy. He rapid-fired questions: "Do the voices talk to you? Do you have more than one? What are their names? What do they say? Do they talk at the same time?"

Now, I was annoyed. He was almost panting He was beside himself with anticipation. His zeal was starting to grate on me. But again, I told him the truth.

"Yes they talk to me, Bobby; I have a whole committee in my head. And no, they don't have names. They are all ME, talking to myself. And yes, I interrupt myself all the time, because my committee always has so many different opinions..."

He dropped his mouth open and tilted his head, as his eyes nearly crossed. His puzzled expression said, "Huh?"

His bewilderment almost made me feel sorry for him.

But Michelle wasn't puzzled or bewildered and definitely not shy.

She haughtily asked "So, Susan how many voices are on your 'committee'?"

I hadn't ever thought about that, so I replied, "Umm, I'm not sure, but there's a lot, I know that!"

She looked like I had just spit on her. "Humph!" she sneered. "It sounds to me like you may need a 'higher' level of care."

Bobby dropped his mouth open, but nothing came out. "This can not be good," I thought. What the hell is "A Higher Level of Care?"

I found out later that it was a facility that was on lock down and people wore hospital gowns all night and all day. "Sheeeit, been there, done that...thirty years ago, about twenty seven times."

Michelle broke the group "confidence" and told everyone that I had multiple personalities. Along with Doreen's insistence that I was going to kill her in her sleep, it wasn't long before everyone believed I was a multi-personalitied, probable serial killer.

My incessant shaking just verified how unstable, how unpredictable I was. I instantly had the plague, as well.

I was a one-eyed monster for the next eight weeks. Out of twenty-five women, only one was nice to me. She was Robert Downy Jr.'s older sister, Alison. I knew if I ever wanted to, I could ask her to verify what happened to me at the Ranch.

One evening, I missed dinner because no one shared the dinner hour information with me. And this information changed everyday. When I walked into the kitchen, there was no food left. I looked at the ten other women sitting at the dinner table with food overflowing their plates. Everyone snickered when Michelle commented, "Hey, first come, first served."

Since I had already been dubbed insane (which I obviously was not, I just had problems), I bit my tongue until I could reply in a very calm manner, "If any of you, or anyone else came to my house, I would never, ever allow something like this happen to them. I would share some of what I had on my plate."

I heard the whispering gossip as I headed upstairs to my room. "She's Nuts!" snicker, snicker, snicker. It wasn't long before the word spread to the ED house and the men's house. Everywhere I went I was fish-eyed and avoided.

"God, these are very rich people! Judges! B- Movie Stars! Grandkids of Johnny Cash! Semi- famous writers and artists with issues! Alcoholic Race Car drivers! Supposedly sensitive musicians with major heroin habits! How can they be so cruel? "

Then I answered my questions, "That's it! I AM different! I have a soul!"

I would have left after a week but Julie paid a lot of money for my "recovery" there. She was becoming deeply in debt. She had already charged almost thirty thousand dollars for two months in this supposed trauma program that turned into a complete hell hole. When I left, I was more traumatized than when I went in. I didn't feel better, I felt worse.

I came back home in late October. The first thing I did was buy the biggest bottle of Canadian Club available and went back to a peaceful, loving place...on my couch...for three days.

Before I left Ranch, the aftercare specialist Amy, scheduled an appointment with a local psychologist in Melbourne, who specialized in trauma treatment. Thank God for that, right? I was given a phone number to Dr Louise Peterson, PsyD.

I cancelled the first appointment. But she was the only resource I was given.
Michelle: Extremely Positiive
Whoops: Mixed.No TV,cell phones,calling home(first 7 days).The RA's are at the bottom of the food chain.They enforce all the rules and play favorites(annual salary in the $20,000 range).Unfortunately,you see these people more then anyone else.Good therapist's,but horribly confining place.Forget the website !! You get to ride a horse up over a hill and back.Takes about 15minutes.No trotting,just walking.The RA's are you like hawks regarding male and female intermixing.
Hawk7458: Both
PatientMom: Negative. Many, many days wasted with crazy patients requiring all staffs attention. Police called, house lock downs, suicide watch, etc. No background checks done apparently for mental stability. Will take anyone who can pay. NO support services set up for going home. Totally dropped the ball. Sent home totally unprepared for the real world again.
Happy: It was an EXTREMELY positive experience. Don't get me wrong, I am not saying I was always happy go lucky, but I didn't go there for vacation. As an alcoholic and addict it was VERY difficult at first to deal with all the rules and have every move controlled. But I was there to learn how to live my life as a sober/productive member of society and that is exactly what I got. The staff was very professional and the different therapies worked amazingly well.
Dino: Very positive. Our daughter was a typical user, denying she needed rehab, and refusing until she had no choices left. Recovery Ranch had no detox vacancies and referred us to a great facility as a precursor to Recovery Ranch. Our daughter immediately broke all the rules, used her cell phone, cursed the staff, snuck into the boys areas, and complained about every aspect of the facility. Having visited there, met staff, and talked with others familiar with the facility I knew our daughter was acting like every other addict...denial and defiance. The day before she was scheduled to transfer to the Ranch, our daughter walked out of detox and onto a country road in the middle of nowhere, 40 miles from Nashville. We got calls from the head nurse at the facility and her counselor at the Ranch, Deidre, a wonderful caring person. They alerted authorities to look for her and kept in constant contact with us. Because we were all out of contact with our daughter, the executive director of the Ranch called to check on us, as did Deidre several times over the next few days. After having been roughed up by crack addicts while sleeping in an alley, our daughter made her way home on a 12 hour bus ride, tired, hungry, and bruised. Deidre checked on her and us several times more after she returned home. We has asked Deidre for additional help on issues that had little to do with the Recovery Ranch, to which she gladly obliged. Everyone at the Ranch continued to be very helpful. Later, another wonderful person, Jenna, also helped us through some trials. Keep in mind, they did not get paid for this help, and they had no obligation, other than their word, to extend their assistance. The staff at Recovery Ranch helped us in many ways and kept promises they didn't have to make. But they kept their word, showing tremendous character and kindness. I wouldn't hesitate to recommend any facility of this nature, and highly recommend Recovery Ranch. They are fantastic people that can be trusted. That should mean a lot to anyone contemplating recovery services for a loved one.
Barry: Our family member was sick and we were searching for a recovery treatment center for truama and sexual/drug addiction. The process started out ok with tons of promises and hope. Immediately they began playing 'used car sales' games regarding our co-pay. They new we were not rich but continued to pray on us and ask for additional money. Around 2/15 he was admitted. He was told he would be held in the medical unit for a few days before being transferred to the sexual recovery program that we paid for. Problem #1 -he stayed in the medical unit for 15 days and did not receive the treatment promised as a result. Problem #2 - he was known to be a self-harmer yet they allowed access to razor blades and he severely cut himself resulting in 117 stiches Next - I (the spouse) contacted The Ranch to inquire as to why DJ was still in medical and not his recovery house (Spring House). Craig B., an intake coordinator, basically said he didn't care and that (exact quote)"we have no shortage of clients here". They disregarded my concern. Half of his stay was NOT in the program we paid for. Then, the mother of the client called to simply ask a question about insurance. The young lady she spoke to told her (without merit), "If you file an insurance claim you will go to jail". She told her this twice. I was promised constant contact with both of his counselors. I heard from nobody for nearly a week despite constant calls. We just wanted to know if he was ok. I was told in the intake process that I would be able to contact both Justin R* and Tim K* on a regular basis. I spoke with Tim occasionally but he was very hard to reach and Justin never returned a single call or email. I was promised Skype therapy sessions with DJ, myself and the therapist. This never happened. The Ranch tried very hard to collect additional funds from our family to get him to stay an additional month. They used tactics like calling one family member and when they said no they called the next. Finally, as a last resort they manipulated (the client) and had him cry on a phone call with everyone on the phone in an attempt to get us to pay via shame. The fact was we had no more money to spend. Family Weekend known as FOO - we were lied to and told we would have time to spend together on a Saturday night and dinner would be brought in from an Italian restaurant. When Sat night came, nobody was aware of the plan and we were told to leave. Finally after lots of fighting - I was allowed to stay until 8pm and we were served cold turkey and stuffing with no beverages at all. In addition at FOO - we were told we would do a powerful exercise called 'regrets, requests, affirmations'. The Ranch, in a miscommunication, failed to give us time for this important exercise while everyone else processed it in group. When the money ran out - they turned all aftercare planning over to him with little help. Charged my credit for unauthorized charges. My contract stated I needed to pre-approve any ancillary services. They ignored this and charged my card on MANY occasions. Told me that he was receiving EMDR (and I was billed) when he was not receiving the treatment at all. They promised he would have, at minimum, weekly sessions with a psychiatrist. This was not even remotely true. The icing on the cake was when the ranch emotionally abused the client him- three days prior to leaving treatment. Net, net - we received nothing that was promised and instead got an abusive and manipulating excuse for a treatment center.

Do you feel the program was successful?
Susan: I CAN NOT DESCRIBE THIS HARM THIS FACILITY DID TO ME. I AM DEVASTATED THAT A TRAUMA TREATMENT CENTER COULD ACTUALLY ADD TO THE CONDITION.
Michelle: yes
Whoops: I gained some new insite,but not worth the money.
Hawk7458: No
PatientMom: Some positive things were learned, but more negative. Actually traumatized. Progress was slow. With better therapist, progress could have been much faster. Very little one on one sessions. Mostly group. Way over priced for what you get. You can get 40 hours a week one on one with a therapist for less than it costs and you have to do everything for yourself. Cook, clean, etc.
Happy: Definately.
Dino: Yes. There help was highly instrumental in the transformation that resulted.
Barry: No

What advice would you give somebody considering going to this facility?
Susan: DON'T BE FOOLED BY THEIR WEBSITE!!!!!!!!!!!! THEY ARE NOT PROFESSIONALS, THEY ARE NOT AWARE AND THEY ADMINISTER FAKE TREATMENT. HORRIBLE EXPERIENCE, HOPE THIS HELPS
Michelle: I would say- you get out of it what you put into it. Listen to the people on your team, they have your best interest at heart. Don't waste time trying to do it yourself
Whoops: They do a pretty good job of finding your inner most issues through psych-drama sessions.
Hawk7458: Don't believe their website !!It is nothing like their video's and pictures.
PatientMom: Research several facilities. Tour facilities if possible. Speak to past residents.
Happy: Be ready to do the work.
Dino: Go there with the attitude that nothing is gained without change, that old habits and ways of seeing the world should be discarded so that positive changes made.
Barry: Don't go here - check out Elements, Keystone, Red Creek, SRI......avoid this place like the plague